


Of Fear And Shame

by agirlinherhead



Category: Whitechapel (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-17
Updated: 2013-04-17
Packaged: 2017-12-08 18:23:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/764543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agirlinherhead/pseuds/agirlinherhead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A response to the LJ kinkmeme prompt: A fic where one evening with the entire team at the pub, one of Kents flatmates shows up and tries to convince him to go out on the pull with them. Kent declines and his flat mate reveals that Kent hasn't slept with anyone since the attack, deducing that it is because of his unwillingness for anyone to see his scars. Kent is very red faced.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Fear And Shame

**Author's Note:**

> Own nothing. Not a writer. Season 3 spoilers.

...

Joseph Chandler had always experienced fear differently to anyone else, other people would fear violence, death, walking out in front of a gunman but he doesn't, at least not in the way he should, he'd told Miles as much. Maybe it had something to do with the work, he had been witness to the worst of what people are capable of doing to one another, or perhaps it was the harsh reality of having to come to terms with his fathers own mortality at such a young age, he's not sure of the reasons but he knows it to be true.

The things that do scare him are the things other people deal with every day, social interaction, personal relationships, friendship, loyalty, _fitting in_. He's afraid of making connections, it makes him feel vulnerable, because if he is close to someone then maybe he has something to lose and when someone is taken from you, when they're snatched away, there's nothing you can do, no control you can assert on that moment, it's completely out of your hands and there's not a damn thing you can do about it. Maybe it was about his father after all.

All that hadn't mattered in the end because the moment he had given in to the possibility of company she had been taken away too, he'd been left empty handed again and he could do nothing to stop it.

He'd felt as though he'd been abandoned, until the realisation struck that he hadn't.

Ed Buchan stays all night sometimes, searching through the archives for any little thing that might help an investigation. He doesn't seem to sleep, hardly ever eats, just works away and makes sure he's on hand should the DI ever need him.

Riley seems to make it her personal mission to be the first to talk to the victims families, she speaks soft words of condolence and comfort that he himself is always unable to find. He has a feeling she does it so he wont have to.

Mansell keeps out of his way and tries to do his job the best he can, they don't interact much but whenever someone walks in to the incident room, whether it be with paperwork or a case file, he's always the first to stand up. It's rare these days if anything other than that of the utmost importance finds its way to Chandlers desk.

DC Kent's not in often, he's out doing the leg work, the door to doors, the collecting of evidence, running up and down the stairs retrieving reports from the lab or the morgue, Chandler knows it must be tiring as he still suffers with his leg but he does it anyway. When he is in he's doing all the paperwork or hunched over his desk pouring through CCTV footage, he's doing all the grunt work, he does it so the others don't have to spend their time on the menial tasks and can get on with the larger matters at hand.

Miles is the ring master, the conductor to the chaos who somehow manages to make everything run smoothly and like clockwork, he's the one in the field with them, he's the one giving them orders, listening to their grievances and giving them praise.

They've pulled together and they get the job done and Chandler's not oblivious to the fact that they're carrying him.

.

He's going to try harder because he owes them as much, because if they can do this for him surely he can do the same for them. He's not alone, he realises that now and he feels guilty and ashamed for being so selfish but he'll make it right, he promises himself, and so he lets them in one by one and although it's terrifying, that he now has so much to lose, he can't honestly remember the last time he ever felt so free.

He'd shown up at Mansells flat warming, he hadn't stayed long and he hadn't had much to say but he'd seen the pleased look of surprise on everyone's faces as he'd walked through the door and for a first step towards socialising that had been enough.

When Kent goes on a sandwich run he places an order now and when the DC brings them back he pulls up a chair and eats his lunch with the team.  
When he makes himself tea he makes enough for everyone.

When Miles leans in his doorway Friday evening and invites him to join them down the boozer he accepts.

.

Entering the pub Chandler is relieved to find it relatively quiet, they head to a table toward the back were Riley is already retrieving extra chairs to make sure there's enough while simultaneously perusing the cocktail menu. As Kent's the last to reach the table he finds he has been 'volunteered' to buy the first round and only rolls his eyes slightly as he heads away again.

After well over ten minutes it's Mansell who's first to notice the delay and he turns to see Kent, drinks served, talking to a group of men.

"Oi! Kent, Anytime today" and the young DC looks embarrassed as he finally carries the tray to the table.

"Friends of yours?" Riley asks, nodding toward the group.

"Yeah, my flatmates and a couple of old friends"

"Why don't you invite them to join us"

"What? No no no, they've been out since lunch, they can barely stand" he laughs but Riley doesn't miss the quick flash of panic which briefly enters his eyes.

Chandler looks over the group more carefully now that he knows they're friends of Kents. They all look smart, possibly a little too fashionable for his liking, but he's slightly relieved they're not the scruffy bunch of students one automatically imagines when picturing 'flatmates'. It's the fact that they're so young that surprises him most, he doubts any one of them are out of their twenties and that thought alone reminds him how young the DC really is.

Laughter fills the air and he's suddenly pulled back to his present company as Mansell recalls a tale from back in his bobby days which if nothing else makes him sound like an idiot but the team are more than happy to laugh at his expense.

As the evening wears on the banter doesn't cease and although it's not usually his idea of a good night Chandler's glad he came and there are few places he'd rather be. He enjoys seeing his team interact like this, comfortable and well at ease, he doesn't even mind Mansells mucky jokes as they always make Riley laugh in a way which is infectious and before long they're all laughing and it's stark in contrast to how things were just a few weeks ago. They're all friends here and he likes being with these people, these _friends_ , because he's never had many of those. Whether it's intentional or not he likes the feel of Kents thigh pressed against his too.

They're four drinks in when the table shudders as one if the men Chandler remembers Kent speaking to earlier pulls up a seat to join them; He introduces himself as 'Matt' and seems to receive a warm welcome although Chandler is aware that Kent stiffens slightly besides him.

"We're off into town, you coming Em?"

The DI wonders if he's the only one who notices the slight face Kent pulls at being address by the diminutive of his given name.

"No, I'm fine, you go ahead"

"Come on, we're off on the pull, you might get lucky"

"Really, I'm fine"

"Come on, it'll be fun, I'll help you"

" _help me_?" Kent scrunches his face up a little and lets out an exasperated laugh.

"Pfft, he doesn't need help" Riley laughs "I mean look at 'im"

Chandler pretends to look confused but he knows all too well what she's referring to. Kent has a look about him that disguises his seriousness, he's youthful and fresh faced, he has a boyish charm about him yet has a depth in his eyes that indicates a wealth of wisdom. With his porcelain skin and dark soft curls he looks almost angelic but there's a cheekiness to his smile that suggests a hidden mischief. With his lithe frame and his smooth skin and his big bold eyes he's innocent and exotic all at once.

"You don't have any game, that's your problem" Mansell offers as if doing him a favour.

"What?" Kent looks across the table finding Matt, Riley and Miles nodding in agreement "Jesus, I'm supposed to take pulling tips off Mansell now?"

"Well" reasons Miles "He is the one knee deep in tits"

"Yeah, well thanks but tits aren't really my area are they" he smirks and Chandler realises he'd never considered that Kent would be so open about his sexuality.

"You've got to get back on the horse sometime you know, you can't keep moping about forever"

"Moping?" Chandler doesn't realise he's spoken the question out loud until he feels eyes on him, he's stayed uncomfortably silent during this discussion mainly because he doesn't like the thought of Kent going on the pull but also because he's aware he's still the DCs commanding officer and there are some conversations he just should not be part of.

"Well yeah" Matt responds "Since he took that beating on the job last year, Don't think he wants anyone to see the state of his arse" It's said with a chuckle but no one sees the humour.

The atmosphere shifts and everyone seems suddenly uncomfortable. It's not that they don't know the ins and outs of each others lives, they know more about one another than work colleagues have any right to, but even in their closest moments Kents recovery from the attack has never been open for discussion.

There's a stunned silence and Kent can feel his face heating up and a familiar stinging in his eyes. He's angry, Matt had no right to do that, _no right at all_. So he has skeletons in his closet, secrets he would rather keep, _doesn't everyone?_ Now it's out in the open, in front of his colleagues no less, and he feels disgraced, _humiliated_ , he moves his hands under the table and balls them into fists against his thighs as he's aware they are shaking, he wont look up from his glass because he refuses to cry in public.

"Well aren't you a prick" _trust Riley to speak first_ "Go on, piss off" she says and it's in a tone that leaves no room for argument, the type often perfected in motherhood.

Once he's gone Mansell makes his excuses to leave, he's uncomfortable, it's obvious, he always is when it's anything personal, he squeezes Kents shoulder as he gets up but isn't surprised when he doesn't respond.

Kent's still trying to compose himself when he feels a hand cover his own under the table, It's not a soft or gentle touch but a strong grasp that startles him but brings enough support to allow him to find the courage to raise his head, he meets Chandlers eyes and finds an unfamiliar look in them which he struggles to recognise, at a guess it seems to be some mixture between rage and tenderness.

"I'll drive you home" he offers and Kent just nods as the DI picks up both their jackets and bids the remaining company good night.

The air's cool outside causing them both to shiver, Chandler rushes to unlock his drivers side door and he looks across the roof as he speaks "I thought I could show you my apartment, I've a bottle of sherry I haven't had occasion to open yet" he pauses waiting for a reply and when none comes he hastily adds "I could just drop you home, if that's what you'd prefer"

"No Sir, I could do with a drink, thanks" and Chandler's relieved when a smile finds its way to Kents face again.

Neither one of them speak again until they're stood in the DIs apartment, drinks poured, Kent's trying desperately to find something to say and both are surprised when it's Chandler who speaks first.

"It's not true is it, the reason you've not dated"

Kent can feel himself burning up again, the humiliation returning, "Sir, can we not".

Chandler takes an uncertain step closer to him, their proximity not concerning him as much as it once might "It would be an awful shame if it were true" and he gives in to the urge to reach out his hand, his fingers lightly tracing the line of the other mans jaw.

He's nervous, he hasn't been this close to anyone, well anyone other than Morgan Lamb, he remembers when he'd allowed her to kiss him. It seems so odd that someone he'd known for so few a days could make such an impact on his life, but she had. She had been the one to open his eyes, to bring him out of his cocoon, to show him there was more to life than _that_. She had opened a door that had been firmly closed for years and he tries not to feel guilty when he realises that it wasn't important that it had been _her_ , but just that it had been _someone_ , to break that barrier and to elicit that blissful anticipation and almost foolish hope that it was perhaps possible that he wouldn't have to live this life so achingly alone. In an odd and strange way he realises that it's in someway thanks to her that he's able to be here now, cradling Kents face in his hand.

When the DC closes his eyes and whispers a soft "he's right", tears finally leaking from his eyes, it breaks Chandlers heart that someone so magnificent should be so self conscious.

Before he realises what he's doing he has Kents face in both hands, wiping away tears with his thumbs and whispering soft words of encouragement, he doesn't know what he's saying as his lips trace the paths of moisture down the other mans cheeks and the words 'perfect' and 'beautiful' fall from his mouth.

When he finally reaches Kents lips he feels a hand on the side of his neck drawing him closer and as their lips almost touch Kent opens his eyes, questioning reality and almost seeking permission. Within an instant Chandler's on him, crashing into him, tongue running along the other mans mouth begging for entrance, it becomes heated and frenzied far too quickly and it doesn't take long before shirts are discarded and belt buckles open. It's passionate and hurried as mouths caress necks and hands roam bare flesh but somewhere in between pants Chandler finds himself able to mutter "We can stop whenever you want".

When it comes to removing Kents trousers there's little resistance and it's not until they're both in their underwear that Chandler notices that the other man has stilled. Kent bares a look of shame and his fingers are fidgeting nervously as he looks anywhere but Chandler "I'm not sure I can" and then there are fresh tears in his eyes.

All at once there are arms around him and lips pressed to his forehead.

"It's fine"

"It's not though is it"

"It is, I promise it is" and Chandler's draping his own shirt around the smaller mans shoulders whilst still holding him tightly "stay with me" he says "for tonight...for as long as you like?" He doesn't sound as confident as he would have liked, he's petrified of rejection but doesn't want to show it, he thinks however his semi pleading tone has probably given him away.

Kent nods into his shoulder

.

As they lay beneath his crisp clean sheets it comes as a surprise that he isn't uncomfortable holding his youngest DC to his chest. He's never been in this position before, having someone in his bed, laying there and having them so close.

He always avoided intimate contact, when he'd been in a confined space with the young SOCO, Lizzie, he'd done all he could to escape, he'd felt queasy and light-headed and had very nearly vomited. When DI Norry had confessed that she liked him, whilst drugged no less, she had held out her hand but he hadn't been able to bring himself to touch her even though he had known he should have been comforting her at that moment. Physical connection had always been a problem for him, always been a fear, but with Kent it comes easy, as if the feel of his flesh beneath his fingers is the simplest thing on earth, to hold Kent almost naked in his arms comes as natural to him as breathing, there's a familiarity in the way the younger mans body is pressed closely against his own, as if it had always meant to be there, as if this is exactly what he'd been missing since before he could even remember.

He has a connection with this man now, a bond stronger than anything he had ever hoped possible, and although he wont say _that_ word this early he's sure it isn't far away.

He finds kissing his soft lips as easy as flipping a light switch and he fears it has already become just as addictive.

.

.

.


End file.
